


a distant memory

by hollow_city



Series: broken hearts & twisted minds [4]
Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2017-07-20
Packaged: 2018-12-04 19:55:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11562216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollow_city/pseuds/hollow_city
Summary: as a kid, i'd spend almost all of my money on going to the movies. i'd go see a double feature on a saturday afternoon and emerge from the dark theater into the blinding sunlight, and it seemed like it was "real" world that was made up and fake.[in which tim remembers what life was like when it wasn't out to get him.]





	a distant memory

**Author's Note:**

> i just realized that all of the things that i've written for this so far are fairly sad. whoops.

_**As a kid, I'd spend almost all of my money on going to the movies. I'd go see a double feature on a Saturday afternoon and emerge from the dark theater into the blinding sunlight, and it seemed like it was the "real" world that was made up and fake. So I'd walk home and invent stories about the people in town, like Mr. Roberts, our mailman, who**_ usually comes and goes with nothing but a wave and a smile. I liked to imagine that he was a special agent of the government, undercover and scoping out the neighborhood while he waited for the perfect time to strike. 

I liked to think that the crotchety old couple who lived next door were secretly mad scientists and only yelled at each other all of the time because they were angry that they couldn't get their science experiments to work. Or maybe they just really hated each other, because they yelled a  _lot._ I liked to think it wasn't the latter. 

And when I thought about my parents, I would imagine that they were on the other side of the world discovering buried treasure or some ancient crypt that's only ever been regarded as a legend. But deep down, even I knew it wasn't anything like that.

And sometimes I'd make up stories about my weird neighbors to the right. The Wayne family. Bruce, who was the most suspicious of them all, who smiled whenever he saw me. Jason, who was the rebellious and excitable kid, who was slightly less suspicious. And then there was Alfred, who was just the regular old cool, grandfatherly butler.

I'd seen them all before, but I'd never met them.

Of course, I liked to imagine that they were all superheroes, like Superman and Green Lantern. Because only superheroes could be that nice and that cool.

But those were just stories and that was years ago.

Now I don't see Mr. Roberts anymore even though I only live next door, and the old couple can't argue because they're both gone, and my parents can't discover legends because they're gone, too, and Bruce doesn't smile at me anymore, and Jason isn't around anymore.

And now I'm sixteen, and I'm supposed to be an adult, and I have responsibilities, and I just don't have time for stories anymore. 


End file.
